Guys & things, attestament of life & times, oceanside

Monday, 07 September, Year 12 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

This morning, like most mornings, we spent at the beach.

Such a day starts at about 4:30 in the AM for me -- that's right, 430 hours, like we're at war or something -- but even earlier for the chicks. They have to load up the car and things, you see, there's sandwiches prepared from the day before and various coffees, milks, an assortment of towels, who all even knows, probably dozens of items. So for them it's maybe 4, maybe even earlier than that, I don't know really. All I care about is that upon being awokened by large boobs I stumble/fall into the car purring three floors below, and that forthwith we're flying down the highway as close to 200 as can be mustered among the stationary "other vehicles" and assorted debris/whatever scenery. Whatever scenery, you feel me, easily the most scenic road in the world, climbing through mountains oceanside... but as they tell me, I have a way with words. Or rather, I tend to have my way with words, leaving them panting, bathed in their own fluid secretions -- natural, unnatural an' peternatural -- word blood admixed with word spit and piss and vinegar and shit and did I say sweat already ? But whatever, all I care about is that I have on hand exactly what I ask for whenever I ask for it and not be bothered at any other times, it's a DWIM harem after all ; and for me a quite pleasant experience whatsoever altogether.

The ride over's about an hour (two to three for everyone else), maybe a little over, that I'm more than welcome to spend with my own thoughts, in quiet contemplation, or instructing my girls, or using them whatever way, or... This time we mostly discussed the muselmann and what other three or four major contributions of the Nazi concentration camp experience to world culture, not to mention what could've Speer said etcetera. Other times we discuss different things, or do different things, or whatever. The point being, having this great a time takes a lot of fucking time, because if you're having it then that's that, it's had, now you don't have it anymore. Aaaand... it's gone, like if you put it in a pantsuit "bank" or something.

So we get to see the Sun rise over the pristine beach, and play with the crabs, and walk -- long walks on the beach as in whole fucking miles -- and dip and... you know, having fun at the beach, as close to death as at all possible. Going earlier through the pictures shipwrecked inside a camera I hear "oh my god, I can't believe that was... today". Because it was today, just you know, six weeks ago today, or at least a few days ago today, I mean it feels like today's been strecthing out forever -- time might be flying when you're having fun ; but when we're having fun it just melts like plutonium piled upon itself. Aaaand... it's gone. Boom!

Anyways, this article's not really about any of that ; but rather the selection of various guys! Exempli gratia :


The little baby gecko guys are having a ball, there's a few new Fnas born each week, things are booming for them over here.


And all the better! Aren't they just adorbs ?


Oh yeah, also, we went for steaks at some point during the whirlwind. Fucking epic steak, a thousand gram Porterhouse making a mockery of the very notion of weighing portions in motherfuckin' grams. Fuck that, gimme a steak the waiter can barely lift, I say!


Hannah, off to the bathroom (to intercept some possible hottie that went in there, because totally, that's the sort of shit we do). Ever wondered what do they do in there, by the way ?i


Above : Breakfast, or rather I suppose brunchy whatever, one of these days. Featuring the world-famous "beef salad", this Romanian dish made typically out of fowl.

Below : Umm...


Hand-held microphotography, let's call it, and... leave it at that.


The dogs are, practically speaking, dead ; this is perhaps related to... well... you know, all that steak comes on the bone and... What am I going to do, throw it out ? No, I have it packed, there's a special plate in the table set-up for my tableii which piles up slowly all the rind and bone, and then it gets packed in these brown paper... sacks, technically, I suppose they are, and then...

I'm killing them dogs softly with hundred dollar steak rims, and I ain't apologizing (notwithstanding they very much don't mind). Gotta die for something, after all. Right ?


That... well, that was a battle lost.


Until the next one... buh-bye!

  1. Here :


    Unfortunately the thing died just about immediately upon being featured here. Sorry everyone. []

  2. You should see the sheer terror rising like a smoke out of all the new staff once we show up and it by degrees but in short order becomes apparent that holy shit. I expect it's part of the servile folklore of whatever places we favour, "you haven't really worked here 'till you've been through one of these" sorta natural men/boys partition.

    Pai nu ?!

    N-om fi toti nimeni cu acte acuma. []

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